Runaway
by Loveable Git
Summary: USxUK. Both human and country names are used. Over the years, America has been denying the growing feelings he's developed for his former mentor.  Rated T. Rating may change for later chapters.


**DISCLAIMER: **** I do not own Alfred, Arthur, or any of the other **_**"Hetalia"**_ **characters. This fanfiction is clearly a work of my own demented imagination, and any similar names/events that are in here are purely coincidental, and not intended by the author (me). This is my first (submitted) fanfiction on this site, so please try to be gentle. Pairing: USxUK. Flamers gon' flame~**

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><p><strong>Chapter One:<br>**

Allowing a sigh to pass through his lips, the American ran a gloved hand through his messy, sandy-blonde hair; attempting to flatten and smooth the forever stubborn cowlick that stuck out of his head like a sore thumb. His reflection glared at him impatiently as he tried again and again to fix it. _'Ah, damn it. What the hell…'_ he thought, frowning. Thwarted, Alfred turned his attention to his attire; running a hand down his buttoned-down shirt, using his palm to iron out any wrinkles that might've formed there during his previous mid-day nap. He then brought his hands to his mahogany tie, straightening and tightening it, only to return it to its somewhat loosened state not a moment later. An unexpected _knock_ distracted him from his unusual OCD, and he turned to see a solemn Asian enter the room; his deep chocolate eyes unreadable as always. **"Excuse me… I hate to intrude, America-san, but the other countries have arrived for the meeting that is to be held this afternoon. Shall I tell them they need to wait a while longer?"** he asked, his accent catching on the _R's _and _L's _of his sentence_. _ Alfred shook his head in response at the shorter of the two. **"Nah, I'm comin' "**he replied, making his way over to the Japanese nation.

The pair of them exited the room and headed towards the one the conference would be in. The American stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked in silence; he never knew what to say to the sober man, who always seemed to be more in his thoughts than anywhere else. And for Alfred that was rare, considering that he'd talk anyone's ear off if given the opportunity. Oh well. The blonde had more pressing matters on his mind at the moment to be concerned with other things. Such as failing horribly at making small-talk. Thankfully, they reached their destination quickly enough, and he was more than a little anxious to open the heavy door and get this thing started.

At the sound of the door being opened, the chatter and noise of the other nations immediately came to a halt as all eyes focused on the American. As one particular set of eyes fixated on him, he felt his insides leap with a nervous excitement, and he suddenly felt a little warm. Stifling hot, actually. Ignoring it, he grinned his confident smile and plopped his manila folder onto the podium, beginning the meeting. **"Hey, 'sup guys? Everyone here? Great! Okay, listen, this meeting is gonna be way more productive than the last one, got it? It's time for us to get serious about Global Warming! So put your helmets on now, 'cause I'm totally about to blow your minds!" **Alfred boasted, a child-like spark reflecting in his cerulean orbs as he viewed the participants behind spectacled eyes. Someone in the room coughed. Or laughed and tried to feign coughing. Whatever. He continued, opening the folder in front of him to view its contents. **"Get this, are you paying attention? I say we get these huge ice cubes, and I mean HUGE ice cubes! And drop them in the middle of the ocean from time to time, right? BAM! Goodbye Global Warming!" **he pounded his fist onto the podium for exaggeration, blue eyes gleaming at the "genius" of his plan.

The room was deafening silent as several sets of fathomless eyes stared at him; dropped jaws and mouths slightly agape. Then, as if on cue, it suddenly exploded into spontaneous outbursts of all varying accents and dialects.

"**What? Are you serious? Tell me he's not serious…!"**

**"Surely you are joking with us, _mon ami_..."  
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"**Ice cubes? You gathered us here today to discuss **_**ice cubes?"**_

"_**Mein gott, **_**I can't believe I actually got out of bed for this… "**

A knit of irritation bunched between the American's eyebrows as the other conference members bickered and ranted about his so-called "proposition" among themselves. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the _best_ idea he'd ever had. But it was definitely better than the one he had about Britain performing the _Avada Kedavra_ curse on bad guys to cut down on inner-city crime. Speaking of Arthur… Alfred turned his blue gaze on the Brit. The blonde, bushy-browed country had his cheek propped up in his hands; eyes closed as his thumb and index finger pinched the bridge of his nose, a predictable cup and saucer of tea by his side. Alfred felt the heat rush unexpectedly to his face and ears, for once thankful that the other countries were too occupied going at one another's throats to notice him. He craned his neck to view the entirety of the room; Italy was trying to convince Germany to engage in a silly game called _Twenty Questions_, the oblivious Russia happened to be sitting on an overlooked, whimpering Canada yet again (poor guy couldn't seem to catch a break) while China and Japan seemed to be having a quiet, yet serious debate on who's Asian cuisine was supreme. Alfred sighed, closing his folder shut. There was no helping it.. _'Looks as though we've gotta reschedule'_ he thought, a slight frown playing on his lips. **"Ehh, alright dudes, how about we just pick this back up tomorrow?" **he proposed in a loud voice, and was answered with monotone grumbles and sighs of agreement.

One by one, the countries shuffled out of the room, one or two of them laughing loudly as they planned to go out for drinks, while others looked as though they would rather be snug in their beds instead. The American watched them depart with mild interest, as his eyes caught a more worthy distraction... The British nation remained in his seat, slumped over the oval-shaped desk; his head rested on his arms, using them as makeshift pillows. Alfred casually made his way over to the other, his nerves going wild as he managed to stammer out a poor excuse for a greeting. **"H-hey, England, what's up? You were pretty quiet during the conference, you feelin' alright?" **he asked in what he hoped was a laid-back manner. He felt his legs tremble slightly at the knees; his palms beginning to sweat in their gloves. _'Shit, just calm down, man'_ he scolded himself. Arthur remained silent, and for a moment, the sandy-haired American almost assumed he was sleeping , until the Brit finally answered; mumbling something incoherent. Alfred raised his eyebrows, and he leaned in slightly to get a better idea of what his old mentor was saying. **"Huh? What was that?" **he inquired.

A loud exhale escaped from the other, and he repeated his response through what sounded like gritted teeth. **"I said. I have. A **_**migraine**_**." **And as if it caused him great difficulty, he slowly raised his blonde head from his arms. It was at that moment when Alfred realized the dark, weary shadows under the Brit's mossy green eyes; a grim bleakness he hadn't noticed when the Englishman first entered the room that day. As he propped himself up on one elbow, Arthur sighed once more, closing his eyes for a moment. The American couldn't help but to stare at the fatigued man. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so… _Defeated_...

**~**Flashback**~**

**American Revolutionary War; 175 - 1783. The war between the Kingdom of Great Britain and the thirteen British colonies in North America. As a result from Britain Parliament's Stamp Act of 1765, The American colonists formed the Continental Congress as a sign of rebellion; thus laying down the building blocks that would eventually lead to America's triumph of independence.**

_It was a_ _gloomy, dark day when America finally broke it's chain to Britain - - the heavens had opened up to cascade pouring rain down onto the troops of both red and blue, as if it were crying in pity for what would soon take place on the battlefield. Not a single soldier of_ _either English nor American blood had been spared from the dreadful weather. After years of gunpowder and cannons, of trench warfare and unsightly death, it had all come down to this one moment; the moment that would drastically change the fate of the two countries. However, each of them were unaware of the results from this outcome, and the painful scars they would forever bear to remember it by._

"_**Hey, Britain! All I want is my freedom… I'm no longer a child; nor your 'little brother'! From now on, consider me independent!"**__Time seemed to stand still as baby blue eyes shone with a new found rebellion at the __mossy green ones that stared at him in awe and disbelief; the pain of betrayal obvious. The former colony raised his musket to eye level, __his finger trembling as he pulled the trigger back; cocking it for a shot he prayed he wouldn't have to fire._

The American's_ previous mentor gaped with incredulity for a few moments, rendered speechless by the audacity and brashness portrayed by his ex-pupil. Finally, he glared; a harsh scowl marking his face that would eventually become a permanent feature. __Overwhelmed by rage, he lunged forward, boots splashing mud and rainwater as he charged towards the man in blue. The metallic tip of his bayonet clashing violently with the raised gun, just missing the taller man's face by inches. _ _Upon impact, the US soldier's gun went soaring through the air; leaving him helpless and at the hands of his former ally. Bewildered, Alfred could do nothing more but stare in bewilderment as the Briton __glowered at him with wrathful, emerald eyes. **"**** I… I won't allow it! You idiot - - why can't you follow anything through to the end?"**  
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_America's army started, raising their own guns at the sight of their leader unable to defend himself. _"_**Ready… Aim!"**__ the second in command hollered to his subordinates. The blue-eyed colonel focused his gaze on the tip of the others gun; very much aware that the smaller man could easily end his life if he so much as desired. Around them, the relentless rain continued to pour, making the scene all the more tragic. Then... the ashen blonde lowered his weapon, and it was only then when Alfred noticed the noticeable shaking in the older nation's legs. With great effort, Arthur finally opened his mouth to speak - - his words quivering with an unexpected anguish and strain.__**"... **__**There's no way I can shoot you… I can't..." **__And at that, he flung his gun to the ground in front of them; dropping to his knees as his body was overcome with racking sobs that shook the entirety of his small frame. __He brought his pale hand to his face as if to conceal the desperation and grief that masked his expression_. _**"Why.. Dammit, why! It's not fair~ !"** __Britain moaned, his shoulders quaking with an agony he could no longer __contain._

_Alfred's face softened with an unanticipated sympathy, his aqua eyes looking down at the broken nation with pity. _"_**You know why.." **he answered softly, a large lump forming in the base of his throat as tears threatened to spill from his own eyes. Memories resurfaced to his mind; memories he would have looked back on fondly had it been a different situation. An Arthur from his youth smiling at him tenderly, his brilliant green eyes showing no trace of the hardships he'd once endured. _"_Let's go home..." he said lovingly, extending a hand to the colony's much smaller one..._

_But now he gazed below at the defeated country who has but all submitted to the suppressed emotions he had neglected for so long over the years. _

"_**What happened? I remember when you were great…"**America said lowly, his words dripping with a disappointment and sadness all of their own._

**~**End of flashblack; present day~****

**"Just what the bloody hell are you staring at me for?"**

At the sound of the Brit's voice, Alfred snapped out of his visit down Memory Lane. He blinked his eyes a few times, returning to his senses and remembered where he was and who he was with. A slight embarrassed flush made it's way to his cheeks, and he laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. **"Ahahaa, sorry about that, man. I'm totally spacey tod****ay." **he lowered his hand to the side when the usually cranky nation made no attempt to insult him. _'Huh. Wonder what's got him so down in the dumps'_ the glasses-wearing country pondered. With a rather cheerless sigh, England rose from his chair and began collecting his papers and folders; his forgotten cup of Earl Gray tea cold and abandoned. **"Listen America - - as much as I would enjoy standing here wasting time with you, I hate to be the one to inform you that not all of us have that kind of luxury. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to catch..." **and without so much as a second glance at the American, the ashen blonde tucked his briefcase under his arm; his shoulder slightly grazing Alfred's as he passed by to take his leave.

Like electricity, the minor physical contact from Arthur traveled through the American's entire body within seconds; leaving him nearly breathless. He turned hos body and rotated his head to watch the scone-eater near the exit. _'C-c'mon, idiot. Don't just let him leave like that, now's your chance!'_ his mind encouraged. Alfred hesitated for only a beat before going after him, blurting out **"Y-yo, Britain! Whaddaya say we get a drink first? Or two? Hell, let's make it three and have a party!" **

The stuffy nation stopped in his tracks, and turned to face the younger country. His weary green eyes blinking slowly; tiredly with a waning toleration. **"And why would I do that?"** he asked in a more or less rhetorical tone. The American grinned his famous, toothy smile. **"Because it would be kick-ass, bro! We'll go to that one bar you like; you know, the one that plays the live music and junk. We'll have a couple of drinks, catch up.. It'll be great! C'mon, I'll buy!" **he rambled, his enthusiasm getting ahead of himself. He stared at his former mentor with the best puppy dog "how-can-you resist-this-face" look he could muster, and gave a cheer of victory when the thick-browed Brit obliged; sighing as though he already regretted his decision. However, the oblivious American hardly noticed as he slug an arm around the smaller man's shoulders, his bright blue eyes lit up like the fourth of July.

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><p><strong>Reads and Reviews are very much appreciated, so please don't be hesitant about telling what you think of the story so far. o wo; I'll try to add the next chapter soon enough. Much thanks to coeurgryffondor for showing me the ropes. <strong>


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